I became a child of the universe, reborn into this galactic prison...

music to raise your consciousness

Officially ready

As soon as we are fully conscious we discover loneliness. -C.S. Lewis 

art by Saya Woolfalk

When the alarm went off, she was in the middle of a vivid dream.  She was at the cusp of non-self, in a state of pure, contentless sensation.  Her soul had been dissolving back into the smallest molecules.  These molecules broke apart, smaller than single cells, smaller than the smallest thing possible and atomized out into the atmosphere.  The atmosphere of non-atmosphere.  Just before the alarm sounded, she heard a voice.  In the dream, the voice no longer had a home in the throat and the thought no longer had a home in the brain.  The voice was also a thought. There was no distinction between a voice and a thought in the non-atmosphere.  She listened, but the listening was also experiencing because listening doesn't happen with non-ears, but experiencing does. This was really not so complicated, but rather quite simple and natural.

The non-voice spoke in non-words to the non-ears across the non-atmosphere and also inside of her: "so, this is what it is like to be no one, nothing.  So, this is what it is like to not exist."

The alarm brought consciousness and her dream was quickly translated into words.  Just to keep up the routine, the most important parts were swept away by the flood of her conscious mind and all she has of it today are these little, unexplicable non-feelings.  But she did remember this much. And she remembered how it felt.  And she remembered that it felt good. And she remembered that good and bad do not exist. And then, there was nothing to be afraid of.

 art by John Malta

symbolism manifest

Our sole purpose is to express ourselves for the sake of being expressed.  We are perceptible surfaces created to represent our esoteric affinities with the primordial archetypes.

Paintings of all that makes one cry within onself by Hugo Simberg

joie de vivre!

Nature. That's why we come up here.

We saw this storm blow in and quickly turn into a funnel cloud before our eyes.  

The first photo was taken less than 2 minutes before the last one.
Damn nature, you scary!! 

summer jamz

Just some music worth listening to:


Just fight through the pain.


turbo.


I still dream.


remember that.


down to the dregs of the world.

Psyche is Image

The scorpion wraps his tail around our only nutrients. The warriers are present in body alone.  They are so very weary of protecting the past from the future. The snake slithers before the guardian of the crypt, nearing the depths.  There is a shovel there, in case it is needed for digging or for defense. 

 Now there is a steep slope upward. The pigs have struggled to climb it, as they do not have bodies made for climbing.  The gorilla is at their back, he will reach the diamond first.  The ladder takes whomever climbs it up to the cosmos. Don't you want your head in the clouds?  To block all of this with the sweet, wet taste of mist in your eyes, on your tongue?

The kitten sleeps at the top of the slide, disrupting any swift, smooth decent.  The sword is at the back of the queen's skull, saluting the sun.  Two blades, one with reaper attending, wait nearby. There are messages in the water, if we can make it there.  Mama bear waits on the other side. She watches, radiating her strength, but she cannot assist. We might not make it far enough.  We might go too far, too fast.

We have spiraled back to the totem. The path is smooth and clear, if slightly uphill. Our leader is crystalline and never forgets. He ritualistically mourns the deaths of past lovers and we join him, trusting him through and through.  Baby, we are stronger now with the mother's protection from behind.  The piglets nudge each other forward. We have invited the masses to see our beautiful center.  Come.  Our spiral is endless.  We will never leave and thus, we will never arrive. 

*** *** ***

The human mind is inherently creative.  We can manifest this creativity however we choose.   Activities that allow the creative mind an outlet for expression, both constructive and destructive, allow the shadow to slowly seep into consciousness.  Until we allow the shadow to begin to reveal itself to us through active participation in creative activities, it has no means to let either its presence or purpose be known.   Without expressive capacity, it erupts and demands our attention, like a toddler denied the out-of-reach candy he so lustfully desires.  

But, in order to allow genuine expression of the shadow through creative outlet, we must acknowledge that we do not truly know ourselves.  We must let go of ourselves as we think we are and as we desire to be.  We must throw our masks into the fire and wait for the smoke to clear, revealing our true faces.  It is impossible to truly know oneself due to the dynamic, ever changing nature of being.   We cannot be psychically mature without awareness that parts of us will always be in the dark,  parts that we cannot see and do not realize exist.  The unknown is not separate from the known.   The mind has an evolutionary history.  Creativity is the archaeologic tool that digs us into the depths and reveals the content and structure of our own collective unconscious.  Within the collective unconscious is where our legacy and our individuality reside.  Creation, in all forms, leads us to our truest Self. 

Independence day

photo by Parker Fitzgerald

Last July I received an unexpected letter in the mail. I read it. The words inside that letter woke me up from a deep slumber that I'd unconsciously allowed to wash over me. Hard facts are known to do that. That letter forced me to ask questions that I knew I had been avoiding asking. Those questions forced me to hear answers that I knew I had been avoiding hearing. Those answers forced me to take account of how far from freedom I had traveled and for what?

People who are able to truly love do not lightly put their lover's lives in jeopardy. People who are able to love value their own lives, for the sake of their lovers, if not themselves.

That letter, a record of invisible actions and impulsive decisions, changed my life forever. Forever for the better. I asked, without shame: Are you able to love? If so, are you loving the things that you want to? What in your actions allows your love to be seen?  If nothing, is love really present? If not, why pretend?

The universe has a plan for me (and for you). Let it unfold. Feel it wash over you. There is beauty, light in even the darkest moment- can you see it? This is what freedom feels like. We are lucky to know that feeling.

get screwed

That's a pretty big trunk on my Lincoln towncar, ain't it?
Big enough to take these broken hearts and put 'em in it.




click on the link to hear the playlist.

Spare Time

"Love of beauty is taste.  Creation of beauty is art"    -Ralph Waldo Emerson

go go go go

Push harder. You're almost there now. 

The post-Juggalo era

The 90s called. They want their music back.

that ain't nothing but ten cent love

The incomparable voice of Mr. Redding... 

The Furies

Beyond a certain point, there is no return.

This point has to be reached. 

-Kafka

When the Greek god Cronos flung the severed phallus of his father toward the sea, the Furies were born of the blood that fell to the earth.  The Furies embody the dark side of the binding power of Eros,  the madness of blood betrayed, the primal emotional cry when one's identity is denied.  These three whip-wielding sisters, winged with serpentine claws are the beastliest of predators when enraged. They emerge from their underground lair to punish the most heinous of crimes. Their names are Unceasing, Vengeance and Strange Dark Memory. 

Relentless, begrudging, insatiable and pitiless, they avenge all betrayals and sins against primal relationships with ruthless intensity.  They do not allow a single disregard of the humanity of others through envy or greed or insufficiencies of love to go unpunished.  Even inner struggles between independence and relationship provide fertile soil for the scathing marks of the Furies' claws.  Fury is a psychological reality, like madness and guilt, that cannot be denied.  They must be suffered through in order to reap the benefits of their deeper meanings.  The Furies know their way around the darkest parts of humanity.  They were born there and continue to thrive there as horrifying reflections of the darkest, meanest, most hateful nature that lives inside each of us.  The Furies painfully dismember all prior realities about who we thought we may be and force us toward the fertile magic of rebirth.   

Because of their destructive force, the Furies also offer correction and redirection toward wholeness... if we allow ourselves to embrace their work fearlessly. This is challenging because when the Furies are in action, they tear us apart so thoroughly that it becomes difficult to believe we will survive.  If we let them lead us to an underworld initiation, their darkness becomes communal and guilt no longer makes sense. 

We have been taught to deny the Furies, shrugging them off as "crimes of passion" or "temporary insanity" but like an earthquake pressing toward rupture, they continue to burst forth.  When we do not give them the credit they deserve, they bomb, chide and mutilate until they are sure that perpetrators of crimes of the heart know they are watching. The Furies cannot be subdued and it is a wise person who learns to befriend them, through right actions, empathetic approaches to relationship and a recognition of our own suffering souls. 

We all will have to go below, again and again.  It is the Furies who drag us down into darkness to set things right. 

Get up.

We went to creep around the Geffen before the lights were on. So good, so hood.

It just seems like he has a crew.

Trains.

rainbow warrior

the best hour of any day.

!!

BB! Getting a girl's name up never goes out of style.

yeah, that.

symbolic.

To be human is to be blessed with forget.

yeah you know me.

do the damn thing.

♥♥♥ ahhhh-ndre...